


Unfit

by daydrinkerdamon (oshunanat)



Category: True Blood, Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 02:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oshunanat/pseuds/daydrinkerdamon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Sheriff of Area 3 calls Damon to mentor an orphan Eastern vampire. What should have been a simple night of advice giving takes a turn for the tragic when the new vampire is deemed unfit to be a vampire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Allison

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set in a True Blood/The Vampire Diaries crossover universe. For the sake of this story, the important points of note are: Bill is still King, Klaus is the Sheriff of the French Quarter and has ultimate authority over his kind of vampire in general and Damon works for Bill, representing Southern vampire interests in Klaus' Eastern business.

Damon walked into Bloody Good Books with a sense of anticipation. This place was a bit of a legend. Opened in the late 90s by the Sheriff of Area 3, the independent bookstore was converted to a 24 hour shop within days of the Great Revelation, making it one of the first businesses in the country to cater to a vampire clientele. He had to give respect where it was due.

He strolled in and took sight of the brightly lit store with its perfectly arranged shelves and comfy chairs strategically placed for both reading and people watching. Taking a deep breath, he could smell blood warming and mixing with the heavier scent of coffee. This place was pretty damn inviting.

It was still early in the evening, and those milling seemed to be human. It would be another hour or so before the Southern vampires would be fully up and about. It was a safe bet that his charge would be up, though. Eastern vampires were more like college students: awaken later in the afternoon, then crash around three or four. It was a lot harder to be truly nocturnal when your body still mostly functioned as a human and didn't have anything like day death or the bleeds to deal with.

He walked up to the customer service desk where a friendly – looking blonde greeted him.

"Good evening, sir. Can I help you?"

"Good evening, Megan," he said eyes glancing at her name tag. It also indicated she was a manager. He wasn't sure, but thought that this might be the Sheriff's day person. "My name is Damon Salvatore. Edmund asked me to drop by?"

She nodded in recognition. "Municipal Liaison," she said easily. "Thank you for coming in. Allison is already up. Shall I go get her?"

He nodded. "Sure. I'll be in the café."

"I'll just be a few minutes then. Thanks."

As she fetched the newest Eastern vampire, Damon ordered himself a blood latte and a bottle of True Blood for her before making himself comfortable at a table towards the back corner where they could be afforded some small measure of privacy.

Within a few minutes, both the drinks and the vampire were delivered to his table.

"Municipal Liaison, this is Allison."

She smiled shyly. She was wearing a Bloody Good Books t-shirt and some oversized sweat-pants that had probably been donated by a staff member. Her chocolate brown hair was combed, but her slightly sunken-in cheeks meant that no amount of make-up would conceal that she was malnourished before she died. The how of it was moot; she would remain forever underweight, if he made sure that she was well fed, at least her skin would have a healthy glow that would help a little. If he had to guess, she was probably in her mid-thirties. Not a bad age to be turned, really. She would always be old enough to be seen as an adult, but young enough that she'd be able to able to readily hunt in most places.

She turned away from him after a few moments, like she couldn't bear to keep meeting his gaze. It was as if she was trying to draw herself in and make herself less visible. An anti-confrontational vampire? She was going to be a challenge.

Megan interrupted his musing. "The Sheriff would like to speak to you before you leave this evening."

He nodded. "Of course."

The human nodded in response. "I'll leave you two to it. Let me know if you need anything."

"We will."

Megan left and Damon gestured towards the empty seat.

"Sit, sit." He pushed the bottle of blood substitute towards her. "I'm not sure if you've fed tonight yet. Even if you have, you should still drink that. Baby vampires are always underestimating how much they need." He opened the bottle for her. "It isn't the tastiest thing ever, but you'll feel better once its inside you. If you dink it all, I'll buy you a pastry."

"I can eat human food?" Allison asked surprised as she took the bottle, sniffed it and made a face.

"I know, I know. Not as good as the real thing, but it's good for you."

She took a few sips and set the bottle back down. "The Sheriff gave me real blood last night."

"The Sheriff probably let you have some of his personal stash. There are legal ways to procure actual blood in retail establishments, but they are far and few between and  
certainly not at a bookstore that also serves humans. You'll need to learn to hunt to, just so you don't accidentally kill a person when you inevitably give in to the urge to feed, but we can work on that later.

"And to answer your question, yes you can. It's one of the differences between us and the Southern vampires. With enough blood in our system we can eat and we can drink. In fact, alcohol can help curb the blood cravings. So if you have a drink of choice, I recommend keeping some around. The local liquor shop by my house suspended their loyalty program because I bought so much."

She laughed bitterly. "My sponsor would probably not be happy that you just gave me a reason to drink again."

"Your sponsor should thank me," Damon replied bluntly. "You drinking is better than you getting overzealous and us ending up with a body on our hands. Your tolerance will be so high that you'll find it hard to get drunk. And it doesn't take much to take the edge off. I know of one or two vampires who manage to control it just with wine." He sighed softly as she bit her lip. "But if you are concerned, you can try going without. There are other ways to control it, that's just the easier way."

She nodded. "I've been clean for ten years. Although it seems meaningless now, I'd kind of like to stay that way, so at least I can say that I'm going into this new life without one bad habit at least."

"I can respect that," he replied. He had a lot of bad habits that he was still trying to kick. "Willpower goes a long way with us, just as it does for humans."

"You mentioned Southern vampires," she said changing the subject. "If that is who rescued me last night, than what am I?" She paused. "Or what are we?" she thoughtfully amended before taking another sip of her True Blood.

He took a sip of his own drink and set it back down.

"The Southern vampires are what most people think of when they think of 'vampire.' They're the predominant group of vampires in the United States. They have the numbers and are the best organized so everyone else plays by their rules. Obviously though, they aren't the only game in town. The rest of us are just less common," he began as he reached for some sugar to add to his drink. "We are known as Eastern vampires, because Mystic Falls, which is seen as our home base, is in Virginia, near the east coast. It's where the Original family settled where they came to the United States and it's from where our kind of vampire began to spread here in the states." 

"Original family?" she asked.

Allison seemed curious. Curious was a good thing. Curiosity kept vampires going. Of course, like so many things, moderation was still a key here too. Sometimes, at least when it comes to vampire politics, it's better to be less curious. Not that he had that option anymore.

"The first our kind were human once, just like yourself. The actual story of how they came to be turned is too long for this conversation, but sufficed to say it involved witches and them becoming the first vampires of the Eastern lineage. Hence them being Original Vampires. As far as I know, we're the only lineage that has such a certain accounting of where we came from. I'm fuzzy on the details, but the Southerners have a whole Bible devoted to their mythology."

"That's kinda cool," she said as she weighed this information.

He nodded. "It is, kind of. But listen, if you hang around enough, and talk to enough of our fellow Eastern brethren you will undoubtedly hear a ton of stories about the Original family that will terrify you. I can say with certainty that almost everything you here is likely to be true on some level. I will also say that old vampires of any type tend to be kind of scary and as far as new vamps are concerned, you're better off not attracting their attention. Same goes for the Southern vampires that maintain power."

She mulled this and took another, deeper sip. Good. Maybe should be one of those types like Molly and Stefan who really didn’t mind this shit. If it kept them fed and prevented unwanted bodies from turning up, he didn't mind.

"Megan called her boss "Sheriff" and that you were some kind of Liaison. Is that what you mean?"

He nodded, and got ready to explain. "The Southern vampire society is actually pretty strictly structured." He grabbed a napkin and a pen and began to draw a diagram. "At the  
tippy top is the Authority. Don't worry about them. If you attract their attention you're either going to be working for them or are a dead vampire walking. Do what you should be  
doing and you'll never have to worry about them."

She didn't seem comforted by that fact. He didn't blame her. No one who knew what the Authority were weren't at least weary of them. Anyone who wasn't was a fool. They ran neck and neck with Klaus in the vampire boogey man department.

"Beneath them are the vampire monarchs. You know, Kings and Queens, only without the actual crowns and more likely to die of murder, than in their sleep like the modern royals. The head of Louisiana is King William Compton, also known as King Bill. He's not a bad guy as far as vampires in power go, but he will not hesitate to order your True Death. His needs and the good of the Kingdom will always come first. Always." It was something he tried to keep in mind for himself, though at least he had some protection thanks to his position. 'Basically, like the Authority, he's someone that you don't normally want to attract the attention of, and again, if you keep your head down, you won't."  
She nodded. "So try not to be noticed by the Authority nor the King," she said. "Most people never noticed me as a human, I don't think that will be a problem as a vampire."  
That really wasn't a thing most people bragged about, was it? Scarlett could go unnoticed, but her job meant she was deliberately trying to avoid that. He turned back to the budding pyramid that he was building.

"And now we've reached the level where Sheriff Edmund and I come in. Sheriffs are the King's eyes and ears. They are the King's man on the ground, and they are the ones you go to if you ever need any help, and they are the ones that decide whether issues need to be elevated to His Majesty. There are currently seven Sheriffs. The ones you need to be aware of are Edmund, who as long as you reside in this Area you will report to, and Klaus of Area 7. Klaus is Eastern, like we are. His controls the French Quarter, where the majority of Eastern vampires reside. He also has de facto control over Eastern vampires in Louisiana as a whole, so long as whatever is going on doesn't impact the Kingdom. If you have business with another Eastern vampire, you can contact me and I can help you." At that, he reached into his wallet and grabbed one of his business cards and handed to her. "I represent the King's interests in Eastern affairs."

"This is…confusing," she finally said studying the card, feeling the embossed lettering and turning it in her hands.

"Don’t worry about the details; Sheriff Edmund can always help you and so can I. It's expected.

"Okay," she said, toying with the card in her hand.

"Beneath that and you start getting into the Kingdom bureaucracy. Don't worry about them. Bottom line: behave and pay your dues on time, and you'll be fine."

"Dues?"

He waved a hand. "Don't worry about that for right now. We'll get you settled, then Edmund will work with you on that. We need to get you situated first." He'd been dancing around the subject at hand, because quite frankly he wasn't even sure how to bring it up. "How did Sheriff Edmund come to find you?"

Allison took a sudden interest in her drink, sliding the bottle from hand to hand.

He let the silence stretch between them for several long minutes, long enough for him to finish his drink and order another round.

"You can tell me. I'm not the type to judge."

There was another stretch of silence.

"I wanted to escape."

"Escape who?" he asked gently.

"My boyfriend," she whispered quietly enough that none of the humans would have been able to hear her." Her eyes were now fixed on the table, the shame in her voice almost painful to listen to.

"Your boyfriend turned you against your will?" he asked. If vampires could get headaches, he'd felt one start to develop. This was decidedly against Kingdom rules which meant this was going to turn into something much greater than helping a new vampire cope.

"Not quite," she said. She looked back up. "My boyfriend is human."

That was unexpected. "I'm sorry, did you say your boyfriend was human?"

She nodded.

"Then how?"

"I came home one night, and there was this man, this vampire with him." she corrected herself. "He didn't give me a name. He just looked at me and asked, "This the one?"

"And then?" he prodded.

"And then he said yes. I tried to ask what was going on, but ignoring me, he just said yes again and he grabbed me. I didn't know what was going on and I tried to struggle, but my boyfriend is much stronger than I am…or was I guess. He held me tight as the vampire forced some blood down my throat."

Her mouth opened to continue her story, but she couldn't get the words out of her mouth. It was easy enough to figure out what happened next.

"And so then you woke up…" he prompted. He didn't need the details of her death. He didn't want them either. His mind was still trying to process that someone would order such a thing.

She smiled, grateful.

"And then I woke up. The stranger was gone, but that didn't bother me. I was famished. I'd never been so hungry before. I tried to eat, but everything I put in my mouth tasted like ash."

Damon nodded and then interrupted, "If you ever feel that way again, it means you don't have enough blood in your body and you need to feed." He suspected she wouldn't have enough control to stop herself from harming a human before she got to that point, but he was trying to be optimistic. It was difficult.

She nodded absently. "But yeah. Everything tasted horrible. My boyfriend put this glass down on the table and said it'd make me feel better."

"Did you know what it was?"

She shrugged and took another sip of her now almost empty bottle of True Blood.

"I guessed. A part of me was repulsed by the thought, but the rest of me was so hungry that I grabbed for the glass. I probably would have tried anything at that point."

"So you drank it."

She nodded. "Obviously."

He smiled. "Then what happened?"

She closed her eyes. "Brian told me that because I'd had the blood that I'd become a vampire and that I'd no longer be able to leave the house during the day. That this would better for us both because now he didn't have to worry about me."

"Brian is the name of your boyfriend?"

She nodded.

"What did he mean, 'worry about you?'" It sounded like Brian had a funny way of showing his concern.

"He didn't like me going out without him. He said there were too many dangerous people out there." She emptied the bottle. "I wonder if he thought I was cheating on him."

Damon frowned. He didn't really know what to say to that. Finally, he asked. "How did you feel when he said that?"

She closed her eyes and her voice dropped. "I was angry. So angry."

"Did you try to attack him?"

She shook her head and he could see tears start to form.

He offered her a napkin and a hand, which after some hesitation, she took before offering him a grateful.

"I wanted to, but I couldn't."

"Why not?"

"I was scared," she admitted. "I felt so strange with all the changes to my body. My mind was racing a mile a minute but my body didn't want to move. It was all so surreal."

"So what then?" He really was surprised that Brian hadn't wound up dead. Brian was a lucky man.

"I ran." She said, laughing. "My body finally caught up with my mind and ran out into the night. I didn't even know where I was going." She looked around here. "I've always loved this bookstore though. I think I wound up here because I've always felt it was a safe place. It's been a favorite place of mine for years. Brian's not a reader, though. He never got why I liked this place."

Damon glanced around the store. The little café was now completely filled and the scent of blood hung heavier in the air vampires started filing in and ordering their first cups of the evening.

"His loss, it seems."

She smiled weakly. "That's what I tried to tell him, but he never heard any of that." She shrugged. "I spent a few hours trying to calm myself, think of what I was going to do next. I'd left the house without anything on me, not even a phone or some cash. I didn't really know what to do, I just knew that I couldn't go back to the house. I was too scared."

"Of him?"

She shook her head. "Of myself. I didn't even know what was I was doing. I could smell the humans that were here. The longer I sat here, the more I want to try and eat one of them. But that thought horrified me. And that's when I made my decision."

"So you just went outside as dawn approached?"

She nodded.

"And the Sheriff found you?"

She nodded again.

"He asked me what I was doing outside, and if I needed a resting place for the day. I shook my head. He took my hand and lead me back inside and told me that if I wanted to kill myself, it'd have to be on my own property because he didn't want to file paperwork."

She laughed a little.

"It helped, you know," she said.

"Did it?" Damon asked. 

"I don't know that softly spoken words would have gotten through to me just then. I needed a little mental slap."

"So what then?"

"I told him my name and he gave me a spare coffin to rest in. He said I was lucky. He doesn't normally stay here, but he lost track of time and had been headed out to his car to grab something before he'd die for the day."

"So you stayed."

"I did," she said. "He seemed…concerned for me. It didn't seem right to leave in the face of such kindness."

He wondered how isolated she'd become to feel that way.

"You made the right decision, promise. Being a vampire is pretty bad ass, and I think you'll get to like it."

Or at least she could possibly make peace with it. Become like Molly; have her True Blood and live her life more like a human than a vampire. It wasn't his idea of existence, but the Great Revelation at least made it a possibility.

She dabbed at the tears in the corner of her eyes.

"I will?" she asked, sounding hopeful.

"You will. I just need you to do one thing for me right now."

"What's that?"

"Give me Brian's full name and address."

"Don't hurt him," she said, pleadingly. There was love in her eyes even behind the pain. 

"I'll try not to," he said. He wished he could promise her that he wouldn't, but it wasn't one he could make in good faith. There was little doubt in his mind that this human would end up hurt; the only real question was by whose hand. He didn't have to explain himself though, because just at that moment Allison tensed up. He'd seen less convincing "deer in the head-lights" looks on actual deer.

"What's wrong?" he asked, though he could probably guess and get it right on the first try.

"Brian…" she whispered, nodding towards a man by the door who was trying to maintain the appearance of loving worry, though any vampire worth their salt could smell his anger. And this human had a lot of rage.

"You stay here. I'll handle this."

"Remember what you said!" she begged.

He nodded. "I will."

Rules prevented him from harming this dick in public, but there was nothing about a little public humiliation, especially if it was subtle. He could do subtle. He had some good teachers.

Standing up, the human seemed to spot them and the semblance of calm began slipping from his face. 

He voice oozed faux-concern, but the smile was much more a sneer. "Allison, honey! I'm so glad you're all right!"

Damon stepped in front of the human, easily mirroring any move he made to try and get around him; effectively stopping him from getting any closer.

"Last night Allison decided that the True Death would have been a better fate than being stuck with you. You lost her the moment that you had her turned."  
Brian hissed and Damon knew that this could get ugly quick. As much as he'd love for it to escalate, this wasn't the time nor the place. He caught Brian's eyes and the human went slack as the compulsion took hold.

"Now is not the time for us to have this discussion. You will sit in the empty chair across from Allison. You are going to keep your mouth shut, your hands on your lap, and your head bowed so you can contemplate what a piece of shit you are. And you're going to keep doing this until I give you permission to move. Nod if you understand."

The man nodded.

"Now go."

How he wished he could have made him kneel, but this place didn't have the same vibe as Fangtasia, he didn't think the gesture would be appreciated.  
He ended the compulsion and Brian suddenly seemed a much smaller man without his anger. He slumped in the chair as thoughts of worthlessness began to fill his mind.  
Damon took his seat next to Allison, and with a final eyebrow raised, any humans who had been paying attention hurriedly turned their attention back to whatever they had been doing, especially as Megan rapidly approached their table.

"The Sheriff will have to hear about this," she said. "Compulsion is generally forbidden in public."

Damon titled his head. "Extenuating circumstances. I’m ready to defend my actions."

She nodded, and turned back to her post. She paused. "I've seen that look on men's faces before. He's lucky you didn't punch him. I'll put in a word for you, if I'd you like."  
Damon nodded in gratitude. "Thanks, but I don't want you to be getting into trouble."

She smiled. "I won't, but I thanks for your concern. I'll let the barista know your next drink is on the house."

He flashed her his best winning smile before turning back to Allison.

Allison seemed oblivious to the fact that he'd just had an entire conversation with another person, she was too busy staring at her former lover.

"You can do that?" she whispered.

"And so can you," Damon replied. "We are stronger than humans, Allison. They are our food, our pray. We hunt them. We control them, not the other way around. You don't have to dominate them," though admittedly, that was fun, "but you don't have to let them rule your life, okay?"

"Can you teach me how to do that?" she asked. There was a gleam in her eye and her voice sounded stronger. 

"And how to not abuse it," he agreed. "But not here. Brian's a bit of a special case. Compulsion, or glamour if you're talking to our Southern friends, is still preferable to violence. Even so, one of the first rules of being a vampire in United States is that you want to avoid being seen doing vampire things as much as possible.

Her face fell slightly.

"We may be stronger than humans, but we are vastly out-numbered by them. We keep up appearances that we're nice and co-existing and not stalking them like the prey they can be and they more or less leave us alone in exchange."

She nodded.

"What this means in practice is that you just do vampire things when no-one is looking and more importantly, when no one is taping you."

"No taping?" she asked, sounding confused again.

"Sound advice, Mr. Salvatore." A dry British voice interrupted their conversation.

"Good evening, Sheriff," Damon said easily as he looked up from Allison.

"Megan said you had a good explanation as to why this man sitting beside you looks like he's ready to shit himself?"

"I do," he agreed. "but it isn't not a conversation for public ears."

He nodded towards the back. "We'll take this to the back then. Bring the human."


	2. Brian

Damon nodded at Allison to follow as be clasped a hand on Brian's shoulder. "Stand up and follow me."

Brian did as bidden, falling into line as the three vampires made their way back to where Edmund conducted business. Where Eric's office was cold and utilitarian to reflect the fact he conducted most business on the floor of Fangtasia, Edmund's office was lush with black wall-to-wall carpet, black couches made of fine Italian leather and a dominant walnut desk set off with cream colored walls. It spoke of money and power.

Damon and Allison took seats on the couch. Brian looked lost as Edmund slipped into the chair behind his desk.

"On the floor," he ordered Brian. Now that they were no longer in front of prying eyes, he could start to put the human in his place.

"Your explanation, Municipal Liaison?"

"Did you have a chance to speak with Allison last night after you rescued her, Sheriff?"

Edmund shook his head. "It was too close to dawn. The day started calling me. Finding her a safe place for the day was much as I had time for."

Damon kicked Brian. He ignored Allison's protest. "This asshole decided that the best way to control Allison was to pay to have her turned."

Edmund went still in a way that the Southern vampires seemed to do best. His gaze focused on Allison and she flinched. He didn’t blame her. Most vampires would. He could withstand it, because between Klaus and Eric, he'd stared down the very best. Edmund was good, but not that good.

"You levy serious accusations against this human." Edmund explained, gravitas dripping from his voice. “If true, the vampire who turned you has forfeited his life. This human would deserve no less."

"Damon promised he wouldn't hurt him!" she pleaded.

"I said I'd try not to," Damon clarified. He didn't feel particularly bad about kicking the man. He just felt bad that it seemed to be causing her pain that he was doing so.

"I made no such promises. What this human has done is so egregious that he cannot be allowed to walk away scot free. He is too much a risk to humans and vampires alike. In time, once you have regained control of your life, you will understand this." Edmund stood. "Tell me, do you have someplace you can stay for tonight?"

"I'm not sure," she said. "I have a friend in the book club who offered me a place to stay when I was ready to leave Brian, but that was…before."

Damon interjected. "I've reached out to a local Eastern vampire who has agreed to act as a sponsor of sorts for the next month or so, until she can get the hang of the basics. If she can't find someone else, maybe we can make arrangements there." Damon reached into his pocket and passed over a piece of paper with a name and number on it to the Sheriff. "She's resided in your area for several years, seems reliable enough."

Edmund nodded his approval. "I'll leave you here to question the human while we go find her a place to stay."

"No."

Both men looked at her.

"Excuse me?" Edmund asked, surprised and more than a little irritated at her refusal to obey. He probably should have warned her about that.

"I want to be here when Damon questions him." She swallowed. "I deserve to know why he did this to me."

Damon and Edmund exchanged a glance, Damon nodding that he could get the information he needed in above-board manner.

The Sheriff must have decided it was a fair request. "Very well. But you will stay silent or I will kick you out of this room. Understand?"

She nodded.

"Damon," Edmund said, inviting him to proceed.

Damon knelt down in front of the human, tilting his head up to bring them eye level, a new compulsion taking hold. "I am going to ask you a question and you are going to tell me the full truth. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Brian said dully.

"Did you hire a vampire to turn your girlfriend?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"She's too pretty. The only way I could keep her."

"Keep her?"

"She was going to leave me."

"No I wasn't!" she protested. "I never was!"

Edmund's irritation was impossible to miss. "We made a deal, and you have broken it." He took Allison by the arm. "You are a vampire now, and one of the most important rules you will learn is that when your Sheriff gives you direction, you follow it.  
Finish this, Salvatore. Dial extension 4 for the café once your interrogation is complete."

"Yes, Sheriff."

The Sheriff took the protesting vampire out of the room, his age easily overpowering her cries of protest.

Damon circled the human; a bead of sweat had broken out on the man's forehead, from nerves, kneeling for several minutes despite clearly not being in the best of shape to hold that position, or both.

"Right. Where did you get this bright idea of yours?"

"I was at a bar with a friend. I'd said something to him before, but never knew anyone that could do it. He mentioned that he knew someone that could help and put me in touch with the guy."

"Had you known him before?"

He shook his head. "And didn't care either. He was willing to do what I wanted. That was all that mattered to me."

"Has he done it before?"

A shrug. "I didn't ask."

"What did he want in return?"

"Ten thousand, in cash."

"He worked cheap," Damon muttered. "Can you give me his name?"

The human looked confused. "It's…it's…"

Damon sighed. Of course, he should have expected this.

"Do you remember calling him yesterday?"

Brian nodded again.

"What time?"

"I called him 6 and she showed up around 7."

"Do you have your cell phone on you?"

Brian nodded.

"Hand it over."

Brian fumbled to pull the phone out of his pocket, but dutifully handed it over.

Damon skimmed the recent call list.

"Does the name Mark sound familiar?"

Brian looked at him dumbly.

"We have a winner."

Damon copied the contact information onto his phone.

It was probably a false name, but a name and a number was as good a place to start as any. He only hoped it wasn't a disposable phone.

"All right. You can go back to being quiet for now. I've got what I need for the moment."

He picked up the desk on the phone and dialed the café, telling the bored sounding twenty-something to advise Edmund that he was done.

He was politely told that the Sheriff was still deep in conversation, would he care for another drink? The Sheriff, in his generosity, was willing to let Damon have some of his real blood stock. Damon accepted the generous offer. That, his e-mails, and a trip to the bathroom after Brian's rocking started to drive him insane helped fill the time.

"Thank you for your patience, Damon. I trust the human was no bother?"

Damon shook his head. "We got along swimmingly, didn't we, Brian?"

Brian didn't respond. He hadn't lifted his restriction on talking yet. Oops. He glanced at Allison, who was looking decidedly paler than she had before she had stepped out. And it wasn't the pale of the poorly fed either, it was that shade of green that humans took on when they got sick. Strange.

"I must make a phone call," the Sheriff announced. "Keep an eye on these two. I'll be back shortly."

He barely had a chance to nod before the door slammed shut behind them.

"Did you make arrangements?" Damon asked.

Allison shook her head.

"Sheriff Edmund changed his mind. He said he wanted to talk instead," she replied. He noticed that she was wringing her hands together and pacing. 

"Are you sure you don't want to sit?" he offered after watching her pace several minutes, the action as annoying as Brian's rocking   
had been minutes before.

She smiled, and accepting the question as a command, took a corner of the couch as far away from Damon as she could get. She   
rested her head on the arm, and pulled her feet up underneath her. Whatever they had discussed, it clearly hadn't been pleasant.

"What did you talk about?"

"You know. Things." She paused, and finally said, "My life before," she replied. She fell quiet, clearly not wanting to elaborate.

Silence fell between them once more.

She lifted her eyes so she could stare at her boyfriend.

"I love him, you know," she said.

"Why?"

She shrugged. "He was so kind to me. He took me off to dinner and shows. Bought me thoughtful gifts. Swept me off my feet." She smiled. "My momma said man who did that was treating a lady right and that he was a keeper. My mom had never been so lucky. Our father left us when I was only six and mom said he never even so much as bought her flowers. She said it was because he didn't have a romantic bone in her body. I don't remember him well enough to say. When he left her, he left me too."

"Did she follow her own advice?"

She shrugged. "Not really. After my dad left us, she never found Mr. Right. The second guy was a drunk – remembering what he did to her is what made me give up drinking," she said as if remembering. "She then had a succession of boyfriends. None lasted more than few years and none really ever gave her any gifts either. I think she was looking in the wrong places."

"Where did you meet Brian?"

"At the grocery store. I was out picking up some things for dinner and we met over in the produce section. He complimented my hair on a night when I was totally having a bad hair day and asked me out. We've been together ever since."

"How long ago was that?"

"Three years, I think? It feels like the time passed in a blur."

He paused and prefaced his next question with an awkward "Did he hit you?"

She didn’t react to the question. This must have been a retread of her conversation with the Sheriff. "On occasion. When I messed up. Usually after burning dinner or something equally wasteful like that. I stopped working after I moved in with him, because he insisted that a man should be able to take care of his girl and that no man worth his name makes his girl work to support herself. It made money a bit tight sometimes and it was a reminder that I just had to be more careful."

"Is that why you're so thin?"

She looked confused by the question. "Oh! No. He thought that I was letting myself go a little, so I figured I'd lose a few pounds to prove that I wasn’t. I wanted him to still find me attractive."

He didn't voice the question of 'where did you lose the weight from' because it was obvious in her cheeks. He wouldn't have been surprised if he could see her ribs had the t-shirt not been so oversized.

The door reopened. 

"Thank you for your patience, everyone," Edmund said. "Fortunately, Compton was available to discuss the matter before us tonight."

"Isn't it a little soon to bring His Majesty into the fold? We're still trying to gather information."

"You'll soon learn it's never too early to involve his majesty," Edmund said dismissively. "Better to err on the side of over-information than under. He'll let you know if you can back off; but for the most part he approves of such timely updates. It shows him you are being fully forthright."

Damon made a mental note of that. The Sheriff had been serving the King for several years now, making him a good source of advice. He'd stopped trying to pick up tips from Northman, Northman dealt with Compton differently than just about everyone else.

"So what did you tell him?" 

"If you are so curious we can talk later." Edmund said, his eyes settling on Allison. "For now though, we have our orders."

"Which are?" He was starting to get a bad feeling, the way the Sheriff was looking at Allison was downright predatory.

"Allison is to die tonight and her boyfriend will watch her execution."

Before he end had a chance to question the Sheriff's word, Allison began to panic and made a dash for the door; but Edmond, anticipating this stepped in front of the door to prevent her leaving. His superior age, and therefore, strength, and she might as well have been trying to move a mountain. 

"I don't think neither the King nor Sheriff Northman mentioned this to me in the 'what Sheriff's do' portion of my orientation," he said as he stood still, not really what else to do aside from not helping Allison. There was no point. To go against the order would be treason. As callous as it sounded, this woman wasn't worth his life.

"Understandable," he said as he gripped Allison's wrists. "It's nothing something we discuss often, and trust me when I say I find this duty as distasteful as you undoubtedly do." He smiled sadly even still as she continued to struggle against his grip. "There is a reason that those wishing to make a Childe need to seek out permission first. Not all humans are suitable for this life."

Thoughts of Molly came to the fore once more. She was coping well enough, but she would always be more human than vampire, a mindset that would be a liability over the long haul. She at least had the will to fight, proven when she stood up to Katherine that night. He wasn't sure that Allison even had that.

"Was this something that came into effect after the mess with the orphans?"

"It was always recommended before," the Sheriff said as he opened the door. "But that whole incident codified it. Too many orphans had to be put down because they should have never been made vampire to begin with. Bade the human to follow you. We're going downstairs."

Fear found Allison's voice: she started screaming. "HELP! HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME! PLEASE!" 

Edmund looked unconcerned. "Keep screaming, little one. This whole back area is fully sound-proofed and the staff has been put on notice to leave us be."

Damon renewed the compulsion and Brian followed him into the hall as tears streamed down Allison's face. Cries for help turned into whimpering pleas.

"I can be a good vampire, honest," she said, trying to grab at the wall with her free hand and dig in her heels. "I won't see Brian if that is what it takes. Please let me live!"

"If it isn't Brian, it will be someone else," Edmund said emotionlessly. "Vampires are predators, not prey."

Damon tried to tune out her endless pleadings. It was difficult to hear and a far cry from the curses and angry screams that those scheduled to die usually met their fate with.

He opened another door at the end of the hall and it led down into a basement area. Unlike Fangtasia, this basement was finished. Like Fangtasia, Damon could see there were plenty of places for the Sheriff to hold prisoners, only this time they were cells. How progressive.

A progression of chords began to chime from his work phone. 

"That's probably the warrant," the Sheriff said as he bound the vampire's hands to a set of chains hanging in the middle of the room for this purpose. "His Majesty mentioned you'd probably like to see it."

Damon checked the phone, and sure enough it was exactly as the Sheriff had described it, along with a missive to call in when the deed was done to discuss the next steps.

"I did. Thanks."

"What about Brian?"

Brian stood waiting at attention, albeit trembling. Whether his reaction was one of fear at what might happen to him or guilt over what fate he was bringing to his girlfriend, Damon wasn't sure. He didn't particularly care either.

Edmund walked over to the corner of a room and withdrew the stake he clearly used for such occasions before walking over to Brian and casting yet another glamor.

"You are going to watch your girlfriend die," Edmund invoked. "You will replay this memory every time you sleep and every time you wake you will awaken with the guilt that her blood is on your hands. You will never be able to forget this or to forget her. So horrible will you feel that you will never share your memories of this night with anyone. You will suffer alone for the rest of your days."  
"How long do you expect him to last before he commits suicide?" Damon asked after it was clear that the Sheriff had broken off the   
glamor. 

The Sheriff shrugged. "It depends. I've seen humans last days or weeks and some lasted years. It isn't my concern."  
Nor Damon's. It was messy, but it was justice. Probably the only justice she'd ever see. Because what was about to happen to her? That wasn't justice. His human side was screaming at him that this wasn't fair, this wasn't right. Wasn't she owed a second chance? Molly had gotten one. She hadn't asked for this, so how could they hold her so-called lack of "fitness" against her?  
The vampire part of him though knew it was the right call. She was a victim of circumstance, yes, but she was also a victim. The fact that she didn't kill Brian either to feed or in rage – that her instinct was to run – was proof enough that she didn't think like a vampire. And in this day and age, there was no time or place to play therapist and try to make her whole. The odds were as good she would try and meet the sun again, or else lose control in a way that would still result in her ending up back in this basement waiting for her punishment.

This was a mercy killing, nothing more, nothing less.

It didn't mean that he was happy about it. Ironically, it was the girl's pathetic nature – that very thing for which she was being killed – that was making this harder than it needed to be. He would be strong enough to get through this. He had to be. Turning off his humanity would have been an unacceptable display of weakness; and more so, an act that could have been an excuse to deem him too dangerous to continue living in the state.

"Let's do this then," Damon said. "His Majesty wants me to call him and has a conference call in a half hour."  
Allison's eyes flashed hurt and betrayal at Damon's words. Her pleas finally faded from her lips as she realized there was no one in this room that would stop her death.

Edmund approached Allison with his free hand and ran it down her tear-streaked cheeks. He stepped aside so that Brian could see every moment.

"I am sorry that it has come to this, Childe. You should have never been made one of us." 

With one last sob from Allison, the stake found its way into her heart and then there was silence.

"Escort our guest out of the shop. Let me know what the King says once you've spoken to him. I'll get this cleaned up.  
Damon nodded, just as ready to be gone from this place as Brian apparently was, if the dead-eyed stare on Brian's face was any indication. He took the dazed man back up the stairs and out the employee entrance and back to the main parking lot. He broke the compulsion keeping the human obedient of Damon's commands. "Go home."

Brian looked at Damon fazed. "Why am I here?"

"You said you were looking for her girlfriend."

He seemed confused. "She wasn't here, was she?"

"Nope. Sorry."

He watched Brian head back to his car before dialing the King's phone.

"Good evening, Damon. I take it the deed is done?"

"It is," he replied.

"I am sorry I did not warn you that situations like these might occur. These nights will always be some of the toughest for those in our position."

"I understand, Your Majesty." His tone was carefully neutral. He seemed to be developing a good rapport with the King, but didn't feel like his place was yet secure enough to volunteer his true thoughts on the subject. 

"Right now though, we must focus on making sure this does not happen again. Did you get anything out of the human who ordered this?"

"I got a name and a number off the human's cell. The vampire thought to make him forget his name, but didn't check the phone. I'm hoping that it means he's sloppy and easy to catch."

"Find him, and bring to the Sheriff to deal with."

Damon paused. "With all due respect sir, I'd like to bring this vampire down to New Orleans. This is Eastern business as much as it is Your business." He may have also wanted to watch Klaus torture the vampire, as he undoubtedly would. Klaus held little esteem for those who broke his rules.

There was some silence on the line as Bill considered it.

"Your request is granted, but only if he is acting alone. The second you find signs of involvement from a Southern vampire you are to bring him back to Sheriff Edmund. Keep us both informed of your progress."

"Understood, Your Majesty."

"Be safe out there, Salvatore. Make wise use of the Kingdom's resources and bring this vampire in. Even one vampire needlessly dying is too many."

"Yes, sir." Damon hung up and headed back inside to make his report so he could head out for the night.

He had plans to make.


	3. Mark

Tossing his overnight bag on the functional, yet blandly-ugly-in-the-way-that-only-hotel-furniture-could-be chair, Damon looked around business-class hotel room he'd booked himself for the night. It couldn't have been more devoid of personality if it tried. It was supposed to have the comforts of home; if so their decorator must have been extraordinarily depress. Really though, he was just thankful it wasn't a motel that rented by the hour so at least he wouldn't have to burn his clothes when he got home.

After a quick shower to try and wash away the lingering feeling of guilt, he grabbed his cell phone. On a whim, he dialed the number recovered from Brian back in the book store.

It went to voice mail.

"You've reached Mike. I'm not here right now. Leave a message and I'll get back to you."

Damon hung up before the phone began to record. Huh. Maybe he'd be lucky and the guy really was that lazy.

He dialed Scarlett next.

"Damon!" she greeted him with warmth and sense of love that was echoed through their bond. This was the definition of comfort and welcome and warmth. He felt more at ease almost instantly.

"How's your baby vamp?"

"Culled, unfortunately."

"Ouch," she replied. "That bad?"

"Abuse victim," he said. "Made dear old Molly seem vicious. The Sheriff decided she was unfit to be a vampire."

"Why was she turned then?"

"Her waste of DNA boyfriend paid to have her turned. That's why I called you. I need some help tracking down the vampire who did this. Naturally, his life is forfeit, but we also need to make sure that he's acting alone and that Louisiana doesn't have a bigger problem on its hands."

"Of course, babe. What information do you already have?"

"A first name and a phone number. Our buddy was smart enough to make the human forget his name, but apparently dumb enough not to check the guy's phone. It seems a legit enough number; it went to voice mail for a guy with the same name as on the phone."

He heard Scarlett get up to grab something to write with.

"What you got?"

He rattled off the information. "I know it's not much, but I've seen you pull out miracles with far less. And if your frat feels better, I can pay you for your time. Bill did say to use the Kingdom resources wisely."

He could hear Scarlett's smile over the phone. "You can pay me by letting me visit with Professor Salvatore when you get home."

"You have yourself a deal."

"I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

"Thanks."

That call done, he pulled Klaus' name and dialed that next. Though he could and had shown up at the New Orleans mansion without warning in the past, he usually did so unattended. Besides, it'd be a wasted trip if no one was home.

"Isn't it a little early in the month to call looking for Compton's money?" Klaus asked by way of greeting.

"I rather be asking you for money, Sheriff. But I'm calling on a different kind of business altogether."

Klaus sighed dramatically. "Rebekah gets calls from you and she gets sex. I get calls from you and get headaches. That hardly seems fair."

"Heavy is the head that wears the crown," Damon replied dryly.

"Very true. What's up?"

"There's an Eastern vampire running around turning humans against their will for money."

"How much did they sell their own life for?"

"Ten grand."

"So cheap?"

"That's what I thought. At least Katherine held out for twenty-five grand per."

"I assume you're warning me because you're expecting me to kill him."

"I wouldn't mind doing it myself, but if I'm following protocol – and given the King is involved I kind of have to – yes, yes I am. I figured you wouldn't mind. I know you despise it when someone gives you a headache. More than that though, when I find him, I'm going to need to borrow your ability to compel our kind."

"Trying to find out how many he turned?"

"Something like that. I'm hoping he's a lone wolf, but honestly, it wouldn't surprise me if somewhere some vampire syndicate didn't exist to do just this."

"Point made, and your request is easy enough to grant," Klaus agreed readily. "How did you find out about this vampire anyway?"

"One of his victims tried to kill herself out of Area 3's bookstore. Once we started talking to her it all came spilling out. The human behind it confirmed the story under compulsion."

"You'll have my cooperation. It's been a while since I've had a chance to make an example of someone."

"Figured you'd enjoy that."

"I'm guessing you haven't caught him yet?"

"Not yet. I'm hoping to in the next day or so."

"I may not be around as I may have to leave town on short notice, but Elijah and Rebekah should be. I'll let them know you're coming by so one of them will be in the area. You know where you can stash him until I return."

"Thanks, Sheriff."

As he hung up, his phone chirped with a new text message from Scarlett. It had a full name and address. Damon noted the guy was local. Good. More signs pointing to a lone wolf.

He got up and dug around his bag looking for the vervain and vervain extract he'd borrowed from Sheriff Edmund. 

He checked the clock. He planned on visiting his target before dawn and it was only a bit after midnight. Maybe he could get a nap in before bringing in his man.

Damon pulled up to the neighborhood of one Mark Brooks just as the sun was beginning to rise. He stifled a yawn, he hadn't gotten any sleep after all. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the look of hopelessness in Allison's eyes when she accepted her fate. He almost wondered if he hadn't been compelled alongside Brian.

Instead, he spent his time accessing the databases that existed of known vampires in the state. There hadn't been much data available on the vampire, beyond some basic demographics. He paid his dues, stayed out of trouble. The kind of boring vampire that Kingdoms liked to count amongst its citizens. Just went to prove that some people weren't nearly as boring as they let on.

Since he was running alone, he had to take what precautions he could. The vervain would help stop a fight, and the light that was beginning to fill the sky would limit where he could run. Death by burning was not fun. It undoubtedly was better than death by Klaus, but most vampires were ignorant of that fact.

He knocked on the door once, then a second time, this time more insistently.

A very confused looking vampire opened the door. Mark appeared to be in his late forties. Before he'd been turned, he'd already started to go bald and had started developing a bit of a beer belly. He wondered who turned this man. He wasn't exactly your prime vampire candidate. The dossier did indicate that he had some age on him, turned a few decades after Damon, so maybe the vampire had been one of means back in the day.

"Mark? Mark Brooks?" Damon gave his best smile. He had any number of lines ready to use depending on the situation, covering everything from a hostile vampire to a genuinely confused human that a vampire might have taken advantage of.

He didn't expect the vampire to look at him with wide eyes of recognition and try to run into the early dawn.

Well that told him everything he needed to know, didn't it?

Damon chased after him; his more athletic build made it easy to catch up to the man who was beginning to smoke as the first whisps of light began to fill the air. That, and the fact that the man had decided to run in house slippers which lead him to trip on a crack in the sidewalk.

He'd been ready for a real fight. This was decidedly anticlimactic.

Damon grabbed the vampire by the neck and quickly snapped it, and then injected the vervain to keep him down longer.

He took more time than might have been strictly necessary to bring him back to the trunk of his car and unceremoniously stuff him in there, using some rope to bind his limbs and stuffing extra vervain leaves between the coils for good measure.

Slamming the lid shut, Damon decided he'd have himself a look around before he left.

There was a laptop on the kitchen table that had been up and running; the vampire was probably checking his e-mails before he went down for the day.

Viagra ad. Viagara ad. Coupon for oil change. Facebook spam. Viagara ad. Sports betting ticket.

That had promise.

Damon whistled. The man had wagered a lot, and lost big. He was sensing a motive starting to develop.

He searched through the last few weeks of messages and found several other similar confirmations. The farther back he went, the smaller the losses got, though they were still sizable. This man shouldn't have even been let near a fantasy league, let alone be allowed to spend money on the real thing. 

It was clear he was chasing his loses. There was nothing else incriminating in the e-mail. It pointed at a motive, but he wasn't ready to call it quite yet. 

Standing up, he went and checked the pile of mail on the counter. Plenty of bills, many marked with "second notice," "past due," and a scary looking envelope from the IRS. There was also a paystub. In normal circumstances, it was a healthy check. The problem probably wasn't new then. He recalled that he always paid his dues on time. Clearly, the dues were coming at the expense of some of these other bills. Why the man hadn't tried to negotiate to work off his dues instead was just one more question to ask him.  
But the facts were becoming difficult to ignore.

Mark was a vampire with a money problem. He tried to solve his money problems gambling, but that only made things worse. Someone approached him saying he knew a human desperate to control his girlfriend by turning her. Desperate for money, he agreed to do the deed.

Ten thousand dollars was a fraction of what the vampire owed, maybe buying him a month or two of time.

Ten thousand dollars was enough to ruin three lives.

He wasn't sure if this was pathetic or tragic. 

It was probably a bit of both.

***

The drive back to New Orleans was largely unremarkable, the so-called oldies station cranked up loud doing well to drown out the occasional pounding on the trunk lid, pleas and curses demanding to be left out.

At least this vampire had more of a survival instinct than the recently departed Allison.

He pulled up to the Mikaelson compound, taking a prime spot in front of the house. Good. It was always trickier transporting bodies during daylight hours. Humans had a great capacity to ignore the unusual, but even they weren't always that dense.

He knocked on the door, he wanted it unlocked and open so they could move quickly.

"Liaison," one of the day-walkers du-jour greeted him as the door opened. "Klaus told us to expect you. He currently out, but his siblings are home."

"If either of them are free, I'd appreciate their help, otherwise I'll take him down to the Garden myself."

A nod and the vampire disappeared into house. He knew Caroline wouldn't be around, she found ways to make herself absent when he was around on any business that wasn't strictly routine. She was happy remaining ignorant and he was happy to keep her that way.

He opened the trunk as wide as it would go, flooding the compartment with noon-day sun. The vampire inside scream as he began to burn. Damon started cutting the ropes so the vampire could walk under his own will power, moving just quick enough to sure he'd be able to get him inside in time.

"I am going to point you in a direction and you are going to walk in it. Try to run the sun will be a mercy. Got it?"  
Mark nodded, trying to turn away from the light.

Damon tossed the last of the rope-and-vervain combination off of Mark and helped the vampire out of the trunk.  
Mark was shaky on his feet, but the pain provided the incentive he needed to run towards the door. What it didn't save him from stumbling into the house half-crispy or collapsing at the feet of both Elijah and Rebekah.

He gave Rebekah a kiss on the chick and nodded at Elijah. "Sorry to interrupt your morning." He kicked the vampire who moaned piteously. "This thing is the reason behind a very shitty 24 hours and I can't wait to wash my hands of him."

"This is the one then," Elijah asked, the disdain in his voice obvious. "He doesn't look like much. Of course, it is hard to tell behind the char. You do realize we have a covered car port, right?"

Damon shrugged. "Must have slipped my mind."

Mark looked up at Damon. "Who are they? Where did you take me?"

Damon looked down. "Dude. You ran from me, but don't know who they are?"

"Your picture was in the Kingdom newsletter!"

He'd have to tell Bill that his flock actually did read that thing. Eric was going to be pissed, this news meant he'd be out a grand.

He looked up at the older vampires who seemed as amused as he was. "I'm more notorious than your family. You're getting soft," he teased.

"Doubtful," Elijah said. "This is what happens when my brother behaves himself for a while."

Rebekah snorted. "And that won't last very long. He's been looking for an excuse to act out."

"And this one will provide him the outlet he seeks," Damon said circling him. "even if I have my doubts that he was anything other than a very stupid, and very desperate vampire."

"Where is the one who was turned?" Rebekah asked. "Klaus didn't say."

"He didn't ask." He looked down at Mark. "She's dead." He paused to add extra emphasis to his words. "Deemed unfit to be a vampire."

Mark gasped. "Brian said that she wanted this."

"Brian was an abusive asshole."

"You sound upset, Damon," Rebekah observed.

"I don't like kicking wounded puppies."

"Or watching them die," Elijah added. "I find such acts distasteful myself."

"As do I." Rebekah added, not because it was a revelation, but rather to fully impart the gravity of the situation to the one who caused so much pain this night.

"You know your life is forfeit?" Elijah asked.

"I can feel the vervain burning in my veins and my charred skin is falling off my body and I'm surrounded by three pissed off-sounding vampires. Yeah, I figured that out."

"So he's not a total idiot then," Damon said.

"Can I make a request?" Mark asked.

"Speak," replied Damon.

"Make it quick? I didn't know. I wouldn't have said yes had I known."

Damon snorted. "You say that now. Tell me, why did value her life so cheaply? It barely touched your debts."  
"It's what he said he had," Mark whimpered.

Damon was done listening to him.

"Compelling him to confirm that he's telling the truth seems to be a waste of breath at this point," Damon said. "But we might as well go ahead and do so. The King will like having that confirmation since it's available to us. Besides, I have a few hours to kill before I can get Compton's blessing to stake him. Or have Klaus stake him. Whatever."

"Have you slept at all?" Rebekah asked, taking a closer look at Damon. 

He checked his watch. "Not really. It's been about…" he checked his watch. "Twenty four hours since I've gotten any decent sleep."  
Elijah tilted his head. "Show him to a guest room, Rebekah. I'll take care of our other guest."

"Do you have a change of clothes with you?" she asked.

He nodded.

"Come on, then," she said guiding him back out to his car. "You took Nik's spot," she said bemusedly.

"It wouldn't have done us any good if he'd died before he got inside, and I couldn't resist."

"I don't know, I don't think anything would have been lost if he'd burned prematurely."

"Nor do I to be honest." He looked up and down the street for other places to park. At least there were plenty of spots. The car port   
was on the other side of the very large house, and now that he'd started thinking of sleep, his limbs felt heavy. "Do I need to move?"

"Nah, there's still plenty of room for Caroline and Klaus to park when they get back. The neighbors have learned to not borrow our curb space."

"Dare I ask what happened to those that ignored your advice?"

"No."

He laughed and grabbed his bag before locking up his car and heading back inside. "Fair enough."

"You know, it'd been nice if you could have visited on a more pleasant occasion."

"You're telling me," he said. "when we find the time, I'll bring Scarlett with me. A night out on the town here is way more exciting than Shreveport will ever be."

"We'll make the time," Rebekah said confidently as she lead him to one of the guests rooms. "Here we go. I'll make sure you aren't disturbed, at least until sundown."

He flashed a smile. "Thanks."

"By the by, do you mind if I play a little with that scum bag?"

"Knock yourself out. Just remember he should still be sane and mostly in one piece when I see him tonight."

She smiled, a feral grin lighting up her face as she turned to head back downstairs. "I'll be a good bad girl. See you tonight!"

Damon shut the door behind her and stripped off his shirt, ready to just fall onto the bed and pass out.

This day had been ungodly long.

He looked forward to it ending.

He looked forward to Mark meeting his end.

He looked forward to getting justice for Allison.

He looked forward to getting back to Scarlett and forgetting this day as he soaked with her in their oversized bath

All these things were in sight, and it was only a nap that separated him from them.

He kicked off his shoes and texted Scar a quick message letting her know that he'd made it to New Orleans and that he'd probably   
come home tomorrow.

He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

***  
"Evening, Damon," Klaus' voice greeted him as he joined the family in the sitting room. "Care for a drink? We ordered in Chinese."

Damon gratefully took the glass and a sip. "Thanks."

"Evening, Caroline," He stopped by to give her a hug and a quick peck on the cheek.

"Have a seat," she said, nodding towards the tall wing-back chair that she'd abandoned so he could sit. "Did you sleep well?"

"Like the truly dead," he said. This time his sleep had been devoid of dreams. He took comfort in that. "Did you have a good day?"

"I did! Thanks! It was just errand running, but I had so many it was a relief to get them done."

Elijah reached for the carafe to refill everyone's glass. "You were right about our friend Mark. He was working alone."

"I wish you'd given me full disclosure on what he'd been up to, Damon. I'd found a way to stay home for your arrival. Rebekah stole   
my fun."

"Did she now?" Damon said, not able to muster any pity for him.

"I think it's safe to say he knows who we are," Rebekah confirmed.  
Damon snorted.

"Did he really not know where he was?" Klaus asked, disbelieving.

"Apparently not."

"Maybe we should put our pictures out in the next newsletter. It could be a family portrait."

Damon tried to bite back a laugh as Caroline's eyes lit up. "I think you gave her an idea…" he chirped.

"Is that really necessary, Niklaus?" Elijah asked.

Klaus looked at Rebekah. "When was the last time we had a portrait painted?"

"19th century for the three of us, 17th century if you include Kol and never if you also mean to include Finn."

"See?" Klaus said. "Our dear sister has proven my point. We are extremely overdue!"

Damon finished his drink, sensing this to be an opportune time to make an escape before someone got the idea to drag him into this. Considering that the conversation was already turning to the merits of an old school portrait versus photography, this seemed like a better idea by the second.

"I am going to go make my report to the King now." Damon darted out of the room ignoring Caroline's laughter and dialed Compton's number as he went. He would make his report. Klaus would gather a crowd and execute Mark. He would head home while Klaus spent the next six weeks finding just the right artist to fulfill his vision while Elijah and Rebekah would find excuses to be anywhere but the house until the final plans were made, for the sake of their sanity.

Life would go on.

Allison was not the first vampire to be culled, nor would she be the last.

As painful as the past twenty four hours had been, he was grateful. He still had a heart, tonight affirmed that for him.

It wasn't enough to make up for her sacrifice, but it was a start.


End file.
